The Tempest of Muspelheim
by Guillocuda
Summary: Nazarick isn't the only location to have been transported to the New World. The World Champion of Muspelheim was also sucked in. And neither know the other is present.
1. Chapter 1

**The Tempest of Muspelheim**

**Chapter 1**

After twelve years, the fantasy game YGGDRASIL was finally shutting down. It was one of the first proper DMMO-RPGs, or Dive Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games, allowing someone to fully immerse themselves into a complete virtual world.

Tick. Tock. The constant noise of an ornate, brass clock resounded throughout the wooden chamber. Each tick signalled the impending end of YGGDRASIL.

_Thousands of hours of escapism, and for what?_

Teyr Avro's bright, scarlet eyes flicked from the cheerfully burning fireplace to a glass cabinet. Inside, several trophies of various sizes were stored. Most being bronze or silver, but one in the centre, was her pride. A gold trophy of one of YGGDRASIL's ingame realms, with the words 'World Champion of Muspelheim' on the base.

_I wasn't even the first. They only held a second tournament when the original player had his character deleted._

Tick. Tock. The clock continued its slow, inexorable march of time. Her eyes flicked to the clock, then back towards the fire.

_Not long now. If only I didn't have to go back. The real world is… terrible. No freedom, you can't go outside without wearing protective equipment, and the rain… Oh god, the rain..._

Avro leaned back in her chair, arching her back like a cat. Her gaze fell upon the still forms on either side of the entrance. Both had the tall forms and tanned skin of adult, female dark elves. One was amber eyed and dark haired, and was clad in loose clothes of neutral colour, with soft leather greaves and a bow sung over her back. She was Leyra, a druidic ranger.

The other, Anari, was clad in green scaled armour, with black padding and armoured boots resembling clawed feet. Her long, messily sprawled blonde hair hung down her back, and she clutched a horned metal staff in her left hand. A powerful magic caster, in her own right.

_The NPCs of my domain… I never got around to making more. I've never needed to._

She climbed out of her chair, revealing her character avatar's full, yet relatively diminutive height. She wore an all grey outfit, consisting of a fancy looking breast plate covering her slim torso, while her arms were protected by shoulder plates, armoured bracers, and fingerless gloves. Her hips and legs, hidden by a waist cape going down to the middle of her calves, with metal armoured boots reaching up to mid thigh. Crimson hair cascaded down to just under her shoulders, framing a fine-boned face with slitted eyes coloured a vibrant scarlet. A pair of sword hilts protruded from the sides of her waist, almost opposites in design to one another.

Avro moved to stand in front of her trophy cabinet, her gaze trailing over each and every award found within. The efforts of several years of competing in what passed for the professional player vs player scene of YGGDRASIL.

Tick. Tock. Like the chimes of a death knell.

_So much time. Time spent in practice… in sparring. Was it all for naught?_

Avro brought up her hand, and with a few short gestures, used [Shadow Step] to appear next to her chair. And promptly collapsed into it.

Her eyes found the two NPCs again, and she paused.

_Order them to do something, one last time…? I think I should._

"Attend me!" She barked out, voice cracking through the near silence.

The NPCs turned as one, stepping towards Avro, then kneeling at the assassin's feet.

Avro allowed herself a small, lopsided smile, appearing more like a smirk on her soft face. She idly tapped her long nails on the arm of her chair in time with the ticking of the clock. Glancing up, she saw it was almost time.

She let out a sigh, and her smile bittered.

_Maybe I'll find a new game…?_

"Well… thanks for the escape, I guess." Avro whispered, closing her eyes.

_Nothing left but the end._

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock's bell rung as it crossed the hour mark, and her User Interface vanished.

But there was no rush as her neural nano interface should have kicked her out of the game. The ticking of the clock continued, and she slowly became aware of more sounds. The crackling of the fire, the sound of slow breathing. A pair of steady heartbeats.

_Breathing…?_

Avro's red eyes snapped open and focused on Anari and Leyra. Where before they were silent, unmoving sentinels, now their figures moved in time with the sounds of breathing.

"What the shit?" Avro blurted out, quite eloquently. Her graphical user interface, a constant companion during her time in YGGDRASIL, was missing.

Anari perked up, head rising. Her brilliant emerald green eyes caught Avro's slitted red irises.

"Is something the matter, mistress?" The dark elf asked, her thin brows furrowed in concern.

_Shit!_ Avro launched herself into the air, landing behind her chair in a crouch, her eyes wide. Her hands grasped the hilts of her swords.

_They talk now?!_

"What the fuck?" She uttered quietly, "you can talk?" Her eyes flickered between Anari and Leyra, the second elf also gazing up from her kneeling position, revealing a pixie-like face with cobalt eyes.

The two dark elves glanced at each other, then faced Avro. They were both frowning.

"Of course, mistress," Anari responded, "are you unwell?" The dark elf's voice was soft and musical.

_Their mouths move. That wasn't a feature of YGGDRASIL! Actually… my mouth also moves!_

Avro opened her mouth to respond, but paused, narrowing her eyes. YGGDRASIL was flawed in its recreation of the senses. All of them, with the exception of sight, were reduced in some way or another. But now? She sensed the weight, slight as it was, of her grey outfit. Felt the way her breastplate hugged her torso in its firm embrace over the rest of her gear.

Even the small weight of her two short swords, hanging from her belt. The meager warmth from the crackling flames, despite her racial and class bonuses towards elemental resistances. She savoured all of it. YGGDRASIL even sometimes had trouble with reflections, but the glass front of her trophy rack was reflecting the cheerful fireplace in perfect real time.

But, she could also smell things. Smoke from the fire, the light scents of the elves.

_This is all too real. What is going on?_

Thunder cracked in the distance, and rain began to fall, hammering against the roof of her manor house. The redhead glanced up at the ceiling, then back to the dark elves.

_Thunder? Rain? Now of all times?_

Her mouth clicked closed and her red eyes dulled. Her hand raised and performed a series of gestures, one after the other, with no reaction. Her eyes narrowed further, her brow furrowing.

_None of the menus are responding... none of the in-game functions are working at all._

"My lady?" The voice pressed, soft but firm. Not Anari's lighter pitch, but Leyra. Avro jerked once, and refocused upon the elves.

_Safety first. But if everything is more real… I would like to properly feel rain that doesn't burn._

She stood to her full height, unimpressive as it was. Avro was barely taller than the high backed chair that served as her throne.

"Check the manor and the surroundings. Make sure... everything is fine." She said, eyes flickering from the elves, to the clock, the fire, the ceiling, and back again. "And Leyra! Start protecting the manor!"

"Your will, my lady." Leyra responded. Both elves rose, and with a deep bow, made their way out of the hall, with only the soft clinking of Anari's scaled armour betraying the silence of their movement.

_If... if this is somehow real… does that mean I don't have to go back?_

The door closed softly behind them. Avro ran her tongue over her lips, her fangs flashing in the light of the fire.

_Now… to find out what I can still do, I suppose. With no menus, how do I use my skills…?_

"[Shadow Step]?" Avro tried. Her eyes widened, and she took a step forward, disappearing from view in an instant.

* * *

**Some time later.**

The arched entry doors parted open without a sound, admitting the blonde, green eyed dark elf in scaled armour.

She stepped further into the room and paused, her head swivelling and taking in the room. The fireplace at the side of the room. Thick rugs on the floor, several couches and comfortable chairs scattered about, and a table. The furniture was placed as if no there was no care for its location. Several doors lined the walls. Aside from the ticking of the clock, and the happy crackling of the fire, the room was silent and unmoving.

"Mistress?" Anari called out, "are you there?"

Avro materialized behind the elf, and clapped a hand onto her shoulder. "Right here!" she called out cheerfully.

The elf leapt away with a startled yelp, spinning to bring her staff and free hand to bear. Her hand burst into flame, that just as quickly sputtered out.

She slowly straightened, towering over her mistress. The top of Avro's head barely came up to the elf's shoulders.

Thunder continued to rumble, albeit quieter than before.

_Maybe I should be more careful? Just how loyal are they? Maybe should have figured that out first._

"Mistress, doing such things is unwise," Anari sighed, "forgive me for my reaction." She leaned forward into a bow, holding her hand over her chest.

_Swift to seek forgiveness… seems loyal enough for now, I guess. I will test further, when I have a spare moment._

Avro grinned. "Nah, it's fine. You're forgiven! It's just... I've just realized that… if this is all real, and we're stuck here? Then I don't have to go back!" Letting out a brief giggle, the petite pale-skinned girl spun in a circle, her grey waist cape fluttering out around her. Anari rose, her posture loosening.

Coming to a halt, the red eyed girl brought one hand up and cupped her chin, tapping away idly at her cheek.

"Though, come to think of it," Avro admitted, "I'm gonna miss a few things."

Anari cocked an eyebrow. "Miss some things, mistress?" The elf asked, her melodic voice curious.

_Like TV, and the internet… Best not think about it any longer._

Avro quickly waved her hand. "No, nothing to worry about!" She spun to face Anari.

"What have you discovered?" Avro asked, her radiant eyes wide.

"Mistress," Anari started, placing both hands on her staff, "the manor has moved. We now appear to be inside a forest. The closest sign of civilization seems to be what looks like ruins in a vast plain, several kilometers to our southwest. No sign of intruders near our position were detected."

_Interesting… A different area of the game, or a new world entirely? I need more information!_

Avro hummed. "And Leyra is disguising the property and laying wards?"

The dark elf dipped her head. "Yes, mistress."

_Okay, good. Then... time to feel the rain and have a look around!_

"Excellent! I'm going for a walk!" She declared, smiling.

Anari's ears twitched. "Mistress? What if it is dangerous?" The dark elf's voice was strained.

_Hah! I think I'll be fine._

"Pshh," Avro rapped the knuckles of one hand on her breastplate, and gestured to the trophy rack with the other, "_I'm _dangerous!" She winked, spun, and leapt towards the entrance.

_Wait... What if I get lost while exploring? Can NPCs leave the manor…? If so, she can [Gate] us back if anything happens._

She paused, hand hovering over the simple brass door handle. "On second thought! You're coming with." Avro turned and gave the magic caster a wide, fang revealing smile.

Anari sighed, her shoulders drooping. "Of course, mistress."

_I guess that answers that!_

* * *

**Katze Plains, some distance to the south west**

**Crunch!**

The skeleton collapsed into a pile of shattered bone and dust. Roberdyck yanked his morningstar from the remains with a soft exhalation of breath, his eyes already hunting through the poorly lit mist for another target. The only one he found was a shambling zombie, covered in the remnants of brown Re-Estize Kingdom militia armour and clutching the broken haft of a spear.

His teammate and captain, a clean-shaven blond man with dual swords, was already moving towards the undead.

"[Twin Blade Strike]!" He yelled, driving both swords deep into the zombie's almost bare chest with a grunt. He yanked back on the swords, failing to so much as budge them. The zombie gurgled and reached up to claw at the swordsman's face, forcing him to jump back with a curse, releasing the swords, and winding up for a heavy strike of his fist.

"[Iron Fist]!" The blond shouted, delivering a vicious uppercut to the jaw of the zombie and knocking it backwards, but not over. Until a trio of radiantly glowing arrows struck the front of the off-balance undead and knocking it, writhing and groaning, to the ground.

"Thanks, Arche," the blond called, shaking his head with a frown, "Roberdyck, do you mind…?" He gestured vaguely at the squirming zombie. The big, bearded man with the morningstar grunted, and with a few heavy footfalls that rattled his plate armour, sent the barbed head of his weapon straight through the skull of the former militia man with a sickly crunch. The squirming and groaning ceased.

"Hekkeran! Are you alright?" A purple haired, long-eared woman appeared from the fog, striding over towards the group. A young girl in a loose robe and clutching a glowing staff, with a tired expression on her delicately featured face, followed her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, wasn't expecting my damn swords to get stuck," the blond placed his boot on the torso of the zombie and yanked his swords out with a grunt, "more worn out than I thought I was. Let's get out of here. It's too late to do much else."

Thunder rolled in the distance.

The half-elf gave him a tired smile. "Yeah… let's go before we get rained on," she said, glancing at the star-lit sky.

"Hey, no arguments here!" Hekkeran grinned, the slump of his shoulders betraying how drained the man felt.

Taking a moment to cut off the zombie's right hand and drop it into a cloth sack, he then wiped the blades of his swords clean on the remnants of the corpse's padded cloth armour.

He sheathed his swords with a rasp, then raised his arms up towards the sky and rested his hands on the back of his head. He then began nonchalantly walking towards the north, following the stars. The rest of the group fell in step behind him.

"So! Imina! We got a bit split up there, how many did you and Arche get?" Hekkeran threw over his shoulder.

The half-elf gave a quick glance to the young magic caster, then patted the sack attached to her belt. "Eighteen. Mostly skeletons, a few zombies," she responded, "but we're beat. I think Arche is on her last legs."

Roberdyck let out a short chuckle. "Hekkeran and I only managed sixteen. I guess we're paying for dinner next." The big cleric shuffled over towards Arche, and placed a supporting hand on her back. She flashed him a small smile.

The sky flashed white, and several seconds later thunder boomed once again, louder.

"Eh, figures." Hekkeran grinned, letting his arms fall. "Let's see if we can't get to some cover before the rain, eh? We don't wanna camp out in the Katze Plains!"

A soft voice cut through the fog. "Can we please not come back here for a long while?" Arche huddled deeper into her cloak.

"Sorry, Arche. We go where the money is. Sucks that it has to be at night, though," Hekkeran shrugged, "damn undead aren't considerate enough to rise in the day."

The stars slowly began to vanish behind thick clouds. Even the bright full moon was soon lost.

"Uh… How far is it 'til any form of cover?" Roberdyck muttered forlornly.

Hekkeran reached into a pouch on his belt, and fished around for a moment, retrieving a small compass.

"There's a forest a couple kilometres to the north east. We could find some cover there?" Imina questioned.

"Yeah, sounds like an idea. We probably don't have long before it starts to rain, let's get a move on!" Hekkeran called.

It was at that moment, it started to drizzle.

"You had to say it, didn't you?" Imina's voice was disgusted.

"...Damn it. Pick up the pace, Foresight!"

* * *

**Back at the manor**

Avro appeared out of the shadows underneath the gateway arch of her manor. The ground was wet, and muddy, and incredibly slippery to stand on. Rain fell in heavy sheets to either side of the covered archway. Through the darkness, she could scarcely make out the tall form of her druid, Leyra, busily rearranging the surrounding terrain to disguise the manor with grand gestures.

_I've never felt the rain before… always too dangerous._

She gingerly reached out with one hand, out of the cover of the arch, and into the deluge. The cool liquid ran down her fingers and soaked her glove. Red eyes widened in wonder.

_So this is what it feels like…?_

She let out a small giggle, and without a second thought, charged out into the downpour.

Behind her, the floating form of Anari, protected from the torrential rain by a thin, almost completely transparent shield bubble, set down gracefully underneath the arch. She stayed, eyes locked onto the form of Avro as she danced and laughed her way through the rain.

It was several minutes, and a couple of lightning strikes and following booms of thunder later, that Avro managed to rein herself in, and in the middle of one nimble movement, vanished in a small puff of inky black mist.

And re-appeared, next to the watching dark elf magic caster. Water sprinkled off of her lithe form, and her red hair was plastered to her skin. She had a huge grin on her pretty face, fangs in full view.

_It's too dark to do anything else… but that was both fun, and new. Although… being soaked like this, is actually quite uncomfortable. I still need information, though..._

"Anari!" Avro announced, "I've changed my mind. I'm going inside to dry off. Take a look around and see if you can find anyone nearby. Invite whoever you find to our manor for the night. I'll question them in the morning."

She paused, looking up at the darkened sky, and pointed out into the storm. "Though... honestly, if anyone is willfully travelling through this, they're probably an idiot." A moment passed before she glanced down at her own drenched figure. She shrugged.

"Yes, mistress, they probably are," Anari agreed with a small smirk. She raised her staff in the air, glowing runic circles surrounding its horned tip. "[Summon Lesser Creature: Flying]!" She called. A small bat appeared, flying out of one of the magical circles. She repeated herself until dozens of bats surrounded her, chirping.

At a gesture from the magic caster, the bats scattered in every direction, their warbling vanishing into the darkness.

_Huh. I was expecting her to use a Mirror of Remote Viewing or similar. Clever!_

"Ho-kay then, let's get to some warmth then!" Avro said, turning towards the stairs leading up to the manor house's entrance.

"Finally… it's cold," she heard Anari mutter, in the instant before she triggered another [Shadow Step] and vanished.

_Its cold? I didn't really feel it..._

* * *

**Several kilometers to the south west, some time later**

The four workers of Foresight, were for all intents and purposes, not having a good time. They were exhausted, drenched to the bone, and shivering under the torrential downpour. Their only source of light in the darkness came from Arche's glowing staff.

"Y'know something, Hakkeran?" Roberdyck called out, the big man trembling with every step.

"Give it a rest, man…" the blond leader replied, yelling to be heard over the storm.

"'We should take this mission to fight the undead in the Katze Plains, what's the worst that could happen?' You had to say it, didn't you?!" Roberdyck shouted back.

Imina shoved her way in between the two men, her feet splashing in the mud. "Stop it! We should be close to the treeline by now, surely." The half-elf looked abysmal. Dark bags underneath her green eyes, and her violet hair was glued to her soaked skin. Her leather armour was completely waterlogged.

"Can't be long now! Couple hundred metres, maybe!" Hekkeran yelled, hoarsely.

"I have no idea how you can tell…" Arche mumbled. Her eyelids were drooping, almost covering her blue eyes entirely. She faltered with every movement, barely lurching forward.

The members of Foresight descended into bone-weary silence. They trudged onwards, feet splashing and kicking up muddy water with every step.

They continued on for several mind-numbingly slow minutes when Imina suddenly froze. The others stumbled on for a few more metres, before realizing and coming to a stop.

"Imina? Everythi..." Hekkeran bit off his words when Imina snapped up her hand. Her long, pointed ears twitched.

"I heard something!" Imina's eyes narrowed, trying to pierce through the veil of falling water. Her hand crept towards the bow slung over her back.

"Shit… everyone, weapons out!" Hekkeran bellowed, his twin swords rasping free of their scabbards, and held to the ready.

The half-elf's ears twitched again, and she whirled to the side. "I heard it again! Sounds like… chirping? From the right!" She called. Foresight reacted, bringing all of their assorted weaponry to bear.

Audible, even over the thundering downpour, was a distinct snap-hiss, and a dull red glow appeared in the murkiness.

"What the hell is that?" Roberdyck said, clutching at his holy icon with one hand.

Before anyone could answer the cleric, a black, humanoid form coalesced from the glow. It raised two slender limbs towards the clouds, and a lilting female voice called out; "[Barrier]!"

A large, almost transparent bubble shimmered into place around the form and the four workers, stopping rain from entering. The storm's raging was silenced.

Without the deluge obscuring their vision, the form was revealed to be a tall elf, with dark hair and amber eyes. Her bronzed skin was mostly hidden under a loose cloak, and there was a long, well made bow strapped to her back. Behind her there was a red and black glowing vortex, hovering in the air, the source of the hissing.

She lowered her arms, bringing her hands together across her body, and bowed her head towards Hekkeran's group.

"I bid you greetings. I am Leyra. My lady would like to offer you safe refuge from the storm," the elf raised her head, her soft tone easily carrying over the low roar of the raging storm.

Hekkeran glanced back at his team. "Safe refuge, huh? How the hell did you know we were here?" He raised a sword, pointing with the tip at the swirling red and black magical construct, "and what the hell is that?!"

The elf, Leyra, stepped to one side. "In order; yes, safe refuge. Our minions found you," she raised a hand, and a small, black bat fluttered down and perched on one of her slim fingers. "As for this? This is a Gate back to my lady's manor." The bat dissipated with a puff of inky black smoke, and the elf gestured at the Gate.

Roberdyck grunted, removing his hand from the holy icon around his neck. "A magic caster, huh? Arche, what does your talent tell you?"

The young blonde perked up marginally at the sound of her name, and after a few seconds staring uncomprehendingly at the big cleric, shook her head and locked her eyes upon Leyra.

Arche's blue eyes lit up with a radiant intensity. Almost immediately, her skin paled and her eyes rolled back in her head. She collapsed bonelessly, splashing into the muck in a heap.

"Arche!" Imina was by her side within a moment, dropping her bow to cradle the young magic caster. "What the hell did you do to her?!" the half-elf screeched. Both Hekkeran and Roberdyck slipped into fighting stances.

Leyra, on the other hand, only cocked a thin, neat eyebrow.

"I merely stood here. Whatever afflicted your ally was of her own volition." She released her hands, and let her arms hang loosely by her sides. "If my lady wished you harmed, then we simply would have left you to wander in the storm." The words were delivered in a smooth, matter-of-fact tone.

Hekkeran's shoulders sagged. He glanced at Roberdyck.

The big cleric rolled his shoulders. "I doubt we have much of a choice, Hekkeran. This weather is beyond terrible." He rumbled.

He peered at where Imina was cradling Arche's head in her lap, meeting the half-elf's eyes. She gave an exhausted nod. "Yeah… you're probably right. Still..." he turned back to face Leyra.

"What proof do we have that this isn't a trap or something?" He asked.

Leyra's amber eyes narrowed. "My lady has given her word that you are not to be harmed." Her dispassionate voice sounded out.

"And that's all we have to go on?" Roberdyck asked, his face drawn.

The elf dipped her head. "My lady's word is paramount."

"Well, that's it then, huh?" Hekkeran sheathed his swords, and ran the fingers of both hands through his sodden hair. "So… how do we do this?" He asked.

Leyra raised one immaculate, bronzed arm, and gestured towards the shimmering vortex. "Simply walk through the Gate," she announced, "I will follow."

"Just like that?" Imina asked from her position on the ground.

The bronzed dark elf nodded once more. "Yes."

There was a short lull, broken when Hekkeran bent down, and lifted Arche up into a bridal carry with a laboured groan. Her head lulled almost lifelessly, but her small chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

He looked to the rest of his team. "Alright… let's do this, I suppose." He said. Putting the words to action, he carefully made his way through the sludge to the swirling Gate. Upon reaching it, the blond man took a deep breath, and exhaled in a sigh. He stepped through.

And found himself under a roof atop of flight of stone stairs, facing a second dark elf in front of a large set of magnificent doors. This second elf was dressed in green scaled armour, and had her brows furrowed in concentration. Her hand, clad in a metal gauntlet, was held up towards the Gate with her fingers splayed open. The other clutched a metal staff with horns sprouting off of the tip.

Her rich green eyes shot to meet his momentarily, before shifting back to the Gate. "Move." Her voice was light, but had underlying tones of strain evident.

"..I'm sorry?" Hekkeran blurted.

The dark elf frowned, and shook her head. Her long, chaotic blonde hair swayed back and forth. "Move," she repeated, "you're blocking the Gate."

He quickly stepped to the side, clearing some space. Shortly after, the rest of Foresight came through the glowing portal, followed by Leyra. The stone landing quickly became wettened from the rainwater dripping from the new arrivals.

The unknown dark elf relaxed, letting her hand fall limp, and the Gate shriveled up and disappeared with a soft popping sound. She rolled her shoulders, her metal armour letting out a subdued jinge, and released a quiet gasp.

Leyra immediately made her way over, and wrapped a slender arm around the blonde elf, who slumped into the cloaked brunette's grasp. The two elves held the embrace for a moment, then separated, turning to face the three humans and one half-elf of Foresight.

The blonde elf's eyes drifted over the workers, mouth curling in distaste. They were all sopping wet, with mud coating their entire lower halves. Arche was the worst, both from being the shortest and catching the most of the splashing mud, and her collapse into the muck.

"You are not entering the manor in that… state." The dark elf declared, her eyes tightening in a glare. Her hand rose once more, fingers spreading open.

"Hey now, if there's some bathing facilities we can…" Hekkeran started, the blond captain taking a step backward.

"[Control Water]." The elf stated, interrupting him. Tendrils of water snaked their way from the rain, and from Foresight's saturated garments, consolidating into a large ball of revolving liquid hanging in the air.

"Uhh… Hekkeran?" Roberdyck muttered, the big man retreating a step back as well. "Starting to have second thoughts."

"Yep..." Hekkeran turned his head, looking for an escape route.

But before he could find one, the giant orb of liquid splashed into them, and then all was water.


	2. Chapter 2: The Next Morning

This chapter has been rewritten; best to give it a re-read.

* * *

Chapter 2  
The next morning

Arche awoke with a gasp. Her blue eyes snapped open, viewing an unfamiliar ceiling lit by muted sunlight, creeping its way in through the cracks in thick curtains. She could hear birds trilling in song, and the air was cold.

Memories of the previous night flooded in, and she paled, swallowing wetly. Giving the room a good once-over from her position, she quickly found both her staff, boots, and cloak piled messily on a small dresser near the curtained off window. There was a single door in the far wall.

She sat up, soft covers slipping down her front and pooling in her lap. The young magic caster rubbed her eyes and looked down. She was still clad in her sturdy working gear, although her clothes were now clean, with no evidence of ever being muddy.

Arche rose and crossed over to the dresser with nary a second thought, shivering in the brisk air. She swiftly pulled on her boots and cloak, and grasped her staff in her hands. Feeling marginally safer, the girl moved to the door and tried the handle. It moved freely, and she pulled it open, revealing a short hallway. There was no evidence of where her team might be.

"Where are you guys...? Where am I?" The blonde whispered. She ventured out of the room, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.

The hallway was sparsely decorated, with only simple wooden trim covering the lower half of the walls. Arche made her way down its length to the single door at the other end.

Opening it, she found herself in a larger room. There was a thick rug in the centre of the room, with an empty table in the middle of it. Couches and chairs were scattered around with seemingly no thought to their positioning. There was a fireplace in one side of the room, that only had a few sad looking coals glowing weakly at the bottom of it. Arche wrapped her robe further around herself, breath visible in the bitter air.

There was a glass cabinet that caught her attention, and the young magic caster wandered over. Inside the case, there were multiple cups and other metallic objects of differing size, shape, and material. The large one in the centre, that looked to be made of gold, had strange writing on it that she couldn't recognise.

She narrowed her eyes. It was like no language she had ever seen, in fact, the only reason she suspected it was a language at all was due to how the strange marks were patterned.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" A youthful sounding, softly pitched voice sounded from directly next to her left ear.

Arche jerked away with a startled cry, bringing her staff to bear. Standing behind her was a red haired young woman with a lopsided smile on her pretty face. She stood about the same height as the magic caster herself.

The blonde's blood froze. The strange girl's cat-like eyes were red and glowing, and the tip of a fang poked out slightly from between her lips. A _vampire_! Her heart began racing and adrenaline flooded her body.

The monster's smile fell away, and she frowned, leaning forward. "Are you bro..." she began to say.

"[Magic Arrow]!" Arche cried, interrupting the monster with a gesture and a salvo of brilliantly lit golden arrows.

Three arrows shot forth, only to dissipate into nothingness before ever coming into contact with the vampire's ashen breastplate.

There was a short pause as both vampire and magic caster stared at each-other, with the blonde's arm raised between the two. Arche's eyes and mouth were wide open in terror, and she was taking fast, deep breaths. The vampire simply had a raised eyebrow, and an unamused frown on her porcelain face.

The silence was broken by the vampire. "Was that entirely necessary?" She asked, blinking.

"[Lightn…]" The young magic caster tried once more to do anything to harm the monster in front of her.

"[Silence]." The vampire said flatly, waving a hand dismissively to the side. Arche's voice caught in her throat as her spell fizzled out with nary a whimper.

"Are we done now?" Asked the monster girl, frowning. "I didn't invite you here, and give you sanctuary from last night's storm to be treated like this." She crossed her arms over her slender chest, sounding offended.

"Why…" Arche tried, swallowing, "why haven't you killed me?"

Those slit, cat-like eyes closed for a moment, then opened again with a shake of the vampire's head.

"Come again?" She asked, in complete disbelief.

Arche breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, then exhaled. Her heartbeat slowly began to calm.

"You're a vampire." She stated. Her staff was shaking in front of her.

The vampire cocked her head. "Yeeees…?" She stretched the word out.

"So... why haven't you killed me?" Arche repeated, softly. She carefully stepped backwards.

A small, dainty hand with long fingernails rose up to massage the monster's forehead.

"Seriously? As much as I find your smell delici…" The vampire cut herself off, with an exceptionally bewildered expression on her face. She shook her head harshly, red hair flying and revealing a small golden circlet underneath her fringe, before setting her eyes back on the young magic caster. "The fuck?" She muttered, before continuing in a louder voice. "I'll be honest. I do have ulterior motives for inviting you and your friends to my home for sanctuary. But it's information I want, not your lives."

The vampire hesitated. "And please, sit down before you collapse from fright or something." She gave a meaningful look at the nearby couch.

Arche lurched forward, woodenly shuffling over, and dropped onto the seat. She clutched her staff upright between her trembling hands and knees.

"Good! Now; I am Teyr Avro. You may call me Avro, or mistress, or my lady or… honestly? Just pick something, I'll probably respond." Avro rolled her eyes. "What's your name?" She asked, dropping into a remarkably comfortable looking arm chair, and curling her legs up.

"Arche Eeb Rile Furt." Arche muttered sullenly. Her gaze was locked on her iron staff.

There was a momentary silence, broken by Avro. "I'm sorry…? Is one of those a title or something? Why do you have four names?" The vampire sounded baffled.

Arche glanced up, startled. "Arche… is my name. Furt is my family name and… Eeb Rile are noble titles."

Avro leaned forward, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her knees.

"You're a noble? What were you doing out in the storm?" The vampire asked, cocking a neat eyebrow.

The magic caster hung her head. "I'm not… not anymore. My family was stripped of our status by the Bloody Emperor upon his ascension to the throne." She glanced at Avro, who gave a delicate shrug. "Why we were out there… we're workers. We call ourselves Foresight, and we were hunting undead for a job. The storm hit on our way back to the Capital." She finished.

Avro smiled toothily, fangs on full display. Arche flinched back, huddling into the comfy cushions of the couch.

"You call yourselves Foresight, yet you got caught in a storm?" The vampire let out a small giggle, "I'm sorry, but that's ironic. Workers, though? Not adventurers?"

Arche's head rose, and she stared blankly at Avro. "You're near the Baharuth Empire, and you don't know the difference between workers and adventurers?"

Avro shrugged, a subtle, yet elegant rise and fall of her small shoulders. "Honestly, I'm new to this whole area. Assume I know nothing."

"Well… okay, then. Adventurers are part of the Adventurers Guild, and have to follow the guild's laws. Workers are more… free to choose their jobs." Arche explained. Her breath was coming easier, and her heartbeat continued to slow.

"Interesting…" Avro drawled. "Onto other, more interesting subjects. Talk to me about magic! I noticed," she let out an amused, lopsided smile, "you used some before. What else are you capable of casting?"

The magic caster shrunk in on herself, and swallowed with an audible gulp. "I… um… I can cast magic up to the third tier. Spells such as fly, fireball… lightning." She winced upon saying the last.

The vampire hummed. She opened her mouth, paused, then raised a finger. "Are you considered… strong?"

Arche's face twisted in befuddlement. "...Sort of? Tier three magic is the limit for most magic casters. My old mentor, Fluder Paradyne, is the strongest magic caster in the Empire. He can cast up to sixth tier magic… we share a rare talent!" She stopped suddenly, and clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.

Avro blinked. "What are talents?" She asked, innocently.

The magic caster's eyebrows rose, and her hand fell away.

"...I don't understand you." Arche muttered quietly, staring down at her staff. "Talents are a thing that some people are born with. They're rare... but allow people to do special things. Like learning magic twice as fast as usual, or... able to walk several steps on water before they start to sink. Things like that." She hesitated. "Mine is that… I can see what tier of magic people can cast." She looked up at the vampire, but the chair was empty, with only a quickly dissipating cloud of blackened fog present.

Arche felt a weight settle next to her on the couch, but before she could react, a pair of slim arms reached around her body and embraced her. Soft, cold skin pressed against her face, as Avro rubbed cheeks with the young magic caster.

"We are going to be very good friends, darling," the vampire whispered with a smirk, "tell me... _everything_."

* * *

**Some time later**

During their conversation, the pallid vampire had shifted so that she was no longer embracing the scared girl. Instead, she laid down the length of the couch, and settled her head in Arche's soft lap. The magic caster had stiffened like a board, before resigning herself and gradually relaxing. She did, however, keep both of her hands upon her staff.

_Its amusing how contact disrupts her._

"You… aren't worried I might do something?" The girl asked, warily.

_Hah! That's cute._

"Nah," Avro replied, with an askew smirk, "there's nothin' you can do to hurt me, dear."

She closed her eyes, reached up and gently caressed Arche's cheek. "Though, it's adorable that you think it's possible."

Arche shied away from the vampire's hand, shrinking in upon herself.

_She's easy to tease. But... she still smells oh so tempting._

They continued their discussion for a while longer, with the Avro teasing out tidbits of information from the reserved magic caster. Arche was a wealth of knowledge, particularly about the Baharuth Empire.

An interruption came, however, in the form of a rumbling gurgle, courtesy of Arche's stomach. Avro cracked open an eye, gazing up at the blonde's reddened face.

_Come to think of it, I haven't needed to eat or sleep since I've been here… is my manor even stocked with foodstuffs?_

"[Message] Anari," she cast, bringing her hand to her temple. _"Anari, where are you, and what are the manor's supplies like?"_

_"Mistress, I am standing guard in the entrance hall. Leyra is watching over your… guests. While there is food in stock, it consists mostly of simple grains."_ Anari's calm voice echoed through her mind.

Avro frowned. _"Well, shit. How am I supposed to play the gracious host when I can't feed my guests anything decent?"_

_"I am sorry, mistress. Furthermore… neither Leyra or I know how to cook."_ Anari replied contritely.

The redhead blinked. _"That's okay, I can't either. It's not your fault, I didn't give you anything but combat classes. I'll just make some… oh. Oh dear."_ A sudden realization dawned upon her.

_Crap. I never made any more NPCs, and without the user interface, I don't think I can make any more. Poor supplies, no cooks, and the rings of sustenance I have only allow you to go without for several days._

_"Yes, mistress. I dare say we have a slight problem."_ The dark elf admitted.

_That's putting it lightly. I never earned enough money to buy cookable food._

Avro ended the [Message] and let out a very un-ladylike grunt. She crossed her arms vigorously, and opened her other eye to glare at the ceiling.

"Is... something wrong?" Arche's timid voice whispered out.

_Poor girl. Probably thinks I'm upset because of her._

Avro shook her head. "Sort of," she turned her gaze to the blonde, "any of your friends good at acquiring food and cooking?"

"Acquiring… do you mean hunting? Imina is good with the bow and tracking. And Roberdyck is our usual field cook... why?" Arche replied, raising her eyebrows.

_I wonder if YGGDRASIL money works here. Good thing I figured out how to access my inventory during the night._

Avro reached out with one arm, disappearing from the elbow down into a small purple vortex. She pulled back out, clutching something in her fist.

"So! Turns out, my manor has crap for food, and none of us can cook. I think I've got a job for her," she grinned, "what do you make of this?" The vampire held up a gold coin from YGGDRASIL in front of the magic caster's nose. The girl's eyes almost crossed, before gingerly taking the coin in her hand and peering at it.

She fiddled with the coin briefly, and looked down at Avro.

"This… isn't legal tender. But it's probably worth something from the material." The ex-noble said. "The craftwork is exquisite, though. Where did you get it?"

_From all sorts of places. In a game. You probably wouldn't understand._

"I have lots of them. Keep that one. I'll pay your friend to hunt." Avro gave a small roll of her shoulders. Arche opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps, thudding against the bare wooden floors, resounded throughout the room.

Avro pulled herself up into a sitting position, peering at Arche through lidded eyes.

"Are your friends going to be as difficult about seeing me as you were?" She drawled.

"Probably? You're a... vampire. They… they usually aren't friendly." The girl responded, her blue eyes flicking across the room.

_If they attack me, I'm going to be most upset if they aren't competent._

"Great," Avro muttered, "you can handle it, then. Consider it an audition, dear." She laid down once more, placed her head on Arche's lap, and closed her eyes.

"An audition…? For what?" Arche whispered.

_You'll find out. That… 'talent' of yours is going to be useful._

* * *

**Nearby**

Hekkeran slowly ran his hand down his face, dragging his cheeks and mouth down. "You guys didn't find Arche either?"

Imina and Roberdyck looked at eachother, then back to their leader, shrugging helplessly.

"She's not in the room that Leyra told us she was staying in. The bed's messy, like someone slept in it, though." Imina said, shaking her head.

The three older members of Foresight had met in Hekkeran's room upon awakening. They were clean, if worse for wear, thanks to the violent bathing efforts of the blonde elf from the previous night.

"Damn," the captain swore, "can we ask the elves if we can meet with their lady or whoever it is? Chances are, Arche's there already. Where is Leyra, anyway?"

"She's waiting for us in the sitting room along the hall." Roberdyck rumbled, stroking his short beard.

Hekkeran grunted. "Well, let's not keep her ladyship waiting. Hopefully, Arche's already with her." The blond man stood, and with a quick glance around and a pat down of his equipment, left the bedroom with the others in tow.

The members of Foresight, short one young magic caster, found themselves in in the sitting room in short order.

There, they found Leyra. The dark-skinned elf was curled up in a comfortable settee, a small book in her hands. She glanced up at the worker's entrance, light hints of pink on her high cheeks. She primly closed the book, and placed it aside.

Coming to her feet, the elf picked her bow up from its position next to the seat, and slung it over her back. A small smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes, creased her elfin face.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Leyra asked, clasping her hands together in front of her navel.

"Yeah, maybe." Hekkeran said. "Do you know where Arche is? Our magic caster?"

The elf inclined her head. "She is currently meeting with my lady."

There was a brief pause, then; "What! Why didn't you tell us that when we asked you earlier?!" Roberdyck burst out.

"Ah." Leyra's smile widened. "Simple. Earlier, you asked for the room she was staying in. You did not ask if she was present."

"You're kidding." Imina reached up, palming her face.

"I am not." The elf's smile had become a smug smirk.

Hekkeran groaned. "Great. Can you take us to her? Please?"

Leyra bowed her head. "Of course. Please, follow me." She turned and began walking.

Eventually, she lead the three workers to a larger room, with a darkened fireplace and scattered furniture. The room was lit by the sun creeping through opened curtains. Present on one of the couches, with only the back of her head visible, was Arche. The rest of her, hidden by the padded back of the seat.

"Arche!" Imina exclaimed, stepping forward.

The blonde turned slightly, revealing the side of her face. She peered at Imina out of the corner of her eye. "Hi guys."

"Hello yourself, Arche. We were worried about you. Why didn't you come find us?" Roberdyck asked, the big man sounding mildly upset.

Arche gave a small shrug. "Got lost, found my way here. I've been… talking." Her blue eyes shot down towards her lap. "Hey guys… do you trust me?" She asked.

The rest of them exchanged a look. "'Course, Arche. What's up?" Hekkeran asked lightly, marching forward.

And paused, when he came up to the back of the settee and glimpsed at a feminine, pale skinned form in a grey outfit laying there. Her head lay in Arche's lap, with red hair splayed carelessly. Their eyes were closed, and there was no sign of breathing. The girl was completely still.

"Don't freak out?" The magic caster pleaded, quietly.

Hekkeran reached up with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a huff.

"Arche." He stated.

"...yes?" She replied.

"I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation, but please, enlighten me. Why is there a dead girl in your lap?" Hekkeran asked dryly. Roberdyck and Imina shifted, their hands creeping towards their weapons.

Arche looked down at the head in her lap. "She's… not dead? She put herself there." The magic caster tried, with an uncertain grimace on her face.

Hekkeran's hands snagged the hilts of his swords. "Not dead. Yet she isn't breathing. Explain." He said, shortly.

"She's… her name is Avro, and she's the lady of the manor," Arche explained, then added in a whisper, "she's a _vampire_!"

A momentary lull, as everyone in the room stopped, disrupted suddenly by the sound of Hekkeran's swords singing free of their sheaths.

"Hekkeran! I said don't freak out!" Arche cried out, eyes wide in fright.

The blond captain paused, his eyes running over his swords, then back to the still form on Arche's lap.

"It… hasn't hurt you?" He asked, quietly, his eyes narrowing.

Arche shook her head sharply. "No! She hasn't done anything… besides being scary and making me uncomfortable. If she wanted to kill me, I'd be dead already."

Hekkeran's knuckles whitened around the hilts of his swords. "You're sure?" He growled out, through clenched teeth.

The magic caster winced. "Hekkeran… she didn't kill me even when I tried to cast lightning at her. Magic arrow did nothing at all."

His shoulders shaking, Hekkeran swore, then jammed his swords back into their scabbards. He dragged his fingers through his short, messy hair.

"Damn it." He grunted. "Okay… we'll take your word for it, Arche. But if anything happens, we're attacking." He paused.

"But… why is it laying on your lap?" The blond asked, nonplussed.

Arche glanced down, then returned her gaze back to the leader of Foresight. She could only shrug helplessly.

"Because it amuses me." The soft, low voice of the vampire rang out. Her eyes opened, revealing blood red irises with thin, vertically slit pupils. She rose from Arche's lap and came to her feet in a single, dexterous movement. Despite the couch in between them, Hekkeran towered over her.

"Why bring us here?" Imina asked. The half-elf stood away from the rest of the group, with her bow in one hand and a pair of vicious looking arrows in the other.

The vampire shrugged delicately. "I needed information. You were nearby. Problem... meet solution." Her eyes flicked to Roberdyck. The big man was clasping his holy icon. Her eyes rolled. "You have my word that I, nor anyone else in this manor will cause you harm. _Unless_... you feel like being idiots." She finished, frowning.

"In fact; I think I have jobs for all of you, and I pay well." The vampire, Avro, held up a hand. In between her dainty fingers, were several large, golden coins.

There was a loud clunk, as Roberdyck swung his morningstar up, resting it on his shoulder. He let out a short chuckle.

"Sure. Get basically kidnapped by an elf, almost drowned by another elf. Then, we find out their master, who is a vampire, is offering to pay us for 'jobs'. I'm not sure if this could get any stranger." The big man shook his head.

"Guys… she's serious." Arche spoke up. "We've been talking for…" Her stomach let out another gurgle, cutting off her words. The magic caster's face reddened.

Avro let out a short laugh. "That... is one of the jobs! I can hardly be a considerate host when all I have to offer for food is bread and water." She indicated Imina with a pointed finger. "You are... Imina? I will need you to teach Leyra what is safe to hunt around here."

The half-elf's face screwed up in confusion. "Shouldn't you already know?"

"Nah. We're not… really from around here." Avro shook her head, sending her hair flaring outwards. "And before you ask, this is my manor. It came with us."

"Came with you." Hekkeran repeated, flatly.

"Yep. Don't question it, I don't have an answer." Avro's brows furrowed. "That's… kind of why I need information."

"Information about what, exactly?" Roberdyck asked, with a growl. He had yet to put away his morningstar.

The vampire raised both arms and spun. "Everything! Nearby cities, nations… anyone strong I need to worry about. Y'know. Stuff." She shrugged.

"Why?" Roberdyck asked, raising up his holy icon. "So you can find new feeding grounds? I won't countenance it!"

His holy icon began to blaze with light, and the big man opened his mouth to start casting, but slammed his mouth shut with a choked gasp.

One moment, Avro had been standing on the other side of the couch, the next she was standing near Roberdyck. She held a thin sword, with a dark blue-tinged blade, up towards the cleric's sweating face.

Hekkeran's hands leapt to the hilts of his own weapons, but he froze when a similar, crimson sword appeared in his vision. The tip was merely a handspan from his eye. The vampire hadn't even turned her head to look, she simply continued to glare at Roberdyck, her face twisted in visible frustration.

"Avro…?" Arche began, quietly. The magic caster had yet to rise from the couch. The vampire's baleful eyes shot towards her, and she stilled, paling..

"I have been polite." Avro started, clipping off every word. Gone were the smiles and humour. "I have tried to be understanding. Yet you continue to attack me, even when I offer to give you money in exchange for… for minor _bloody knowledge_!"

There was a brief pause, then a clatter of noise, as Imina dropped her bow and arrows to the floor. She stood, with her hands open and raised in the air, non-threateningly. Leyra stood behind her, her slim arms crossed.

"Guys…? Can we not anger the powerful, scary vampire lady? Let's… let's not be idiots, okay? Can we do that?" The half elf asked, with a pale face. "Roberdyck, just… stand down and apologize, okay?"

The bulky man gave a short, jerky nod, and released his holy icon. The light sputtered out, and Avro pulled her swords away, settling nimbly into an easy stance. Hekkeran raised his hands in the air, keeping away from the grips of his swords.

"I…" The cleric started, swallowing, before continuing with a bowed head. "Forgive me, Lady Avro. I… let my anger get the best of me. It... will not happen again." His voice had an edge to it.

"Seems like you're not _entirely_ senseless." Avro muttered, darkly. "You will need to work for your forgiveness, however." She slid her swords home into their scabbards with a faint whisper.

She reached forward, and grabbed his bearded chin in an iron grip, meeting his gaze with eyes narrowed in a glare.

"You have _no idea_ of what I'm capable of. Do not insult me again." Avro growled, releasing Roberdyck. He stumbled back, and then he hastily nodded his head.

Imina reached down and collected her dropped equipment. "If you guys are done antagonizing each other, I'm gonna go shoot some cute animals." She said, shaking her head. Colour was beginning to return to her face.

"Imina!" Hekkeran burst out. "You're just gonna leave us here?" The blond's eyes widened

"You're an adult. I'm sure you can suck it up and not die while I'm gone." The half-elf gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Just… don't be stupid."

"My lady?" Leyra spoke at last.

"Yes? Oh!" Avro's eyes widened. "Yes… take her. Get Anari to Gate the pair of you away." She tipped her head towards the sole pair of double doors. "Go."

The elf gave a single, courteous nod, then strode straight towards the indicated doors. Imina hesitated for a second, and then followed after her, with a single glance back at Hekkeran.

Waiting until the doors swung closed, Avro whirled and pointed at the table in the centre of the room.

"The three of you will _sit_." She commanded, a stern look on her youthful face.

The vampire sat primly at the head of the table, clasping her hands together on the flat top. The remaining members of Foresight eventually found seats around the table.

"Good!" Avro exclaimed. "Now, tell me; does the word 'yggdrasil' mean anything to any of you?"

* * *

Sup fellas. This chapter (and the previous) was beta'd by The Lord of Exhaustion, the King of Naps himself. Cheers!  
Now; I am a fairly slow writer. This chapter came out faster than all of the ones that will follow, as I already had about a third of it written when I posted the original chapter.  
I'm not -massively- impressed with how this chapter went, but if I stared at it any longer, I wouldn't get anything done. I'm most unhappy with the ending, but we'll see.

I also realized that my line breaks didn't transfer over, so I've fixed that. (And in the previous chapter, too.)


	3. Chapter 3: The Thirst

**If you haven't checked the previous chapter in the last couple of weeks, please, give it another read as it has been edited fairly heavily with changes throughout the first two thirds, and the final third being changed **_**massively**_**. Also, I hadn't noticed the italics were broken, that has also been fixed. Be bear in mind that Chapters 1 and 2 will receive further edits in the future, as I seem to have stuffed up a bit on Arche's characterization. Cheers, and enjoy! :)**

**This chapter was beta'd by a couple members of the usual drunken gang, as well as my regular, the Lord of Napping Amnesia himself!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Thirst**

**Later that night, Tempest Manor**

"Mistress, may I ask a question?" Anari asked, an odd look on her fine face. The messy blonde hair of the dark elf wavered as she shook her head.

"You already have... but sure, go on," Teyr Avro lazily twirled a hand through the air. The vampire lay on her back upon the settee, staring up at the ceiling and letting her other arm dangle. Her long nails idly trailed through the thick, soft rug.

The elf pursed her lips. "Why do you let the humans live? Why not simply dispose of them, now that they've answered your questions?" The magic caster had an offended edge to her voice.

_Hmm… I hadn't decided that far ahead, to be honest. Still… As far as I know, Arche's talent will be useful in determining threats. And, to keep her useful, I need to keep her team alive. For that, they'll need to be useful to me… but how?_

Avro suddenly sat up. The sharp movement caught Anari's attention, and the dark elf's brows furrowed.

"That was two questions, but… it's simple!" Avro said, holding up a dainty, gloved hand and raising a single finger. "First, I _want _Arche's talent, and killing her or her friends would deny me it." A second finger joined the first. "Second, more information is never a bad thing." She paused for a moment, brows furrowing, then a third digit gingerly joined the rest. "Thiiiird... having a group of what are... _apparently _above average adventurers secretly working for us could be fun." She eyed her hand blankly, and slowly let it fall. "Honestly, that's... kinda all I've got." The vampire finished with a small shrug.

_And potentially identify possible opponents for me. A decent fight would be amazing right now. Something... has been irritating me. Hunger? But the food earlier didn't interest me._

"I see." Anari stated, calmly seating herself across from the vampire in one of the scattered armchairs with a subdued rattling of her armour . "Mistress, why not simply enthrall the magic caster?"

_I… huh. I have no idea how that works here. Would it ruin any form of creativity from the enthralled?_

Avro's hand shot up to cup her chin, and she started tapping at her cheek with a finger. "Well… as far as I know, I don't think it'd be strong enough. Or, it would stifle any form of initiative or creativity on behalf of the enthralled. I think." The vampire blinked, her eyes shooting over towards Anari. "Though… it could be worth testing! On someone completely unimportant."

"Indeed, mistress. I shall keep a look out for any potential test subjects." The dark elf said, cupping her chin with a hand. Her bright green eyes scrutinized the vampire's face, then narrowed.

"Mistress," Anari said, sternly.

Avro's fine eyebrow rose. "Yes?"

"When... was the last time you fed on someone?" The dark elf's words were short. Clipped.

_Fed on someone? I… haven't?_

"Uh," Avro replied, eloquently. Her red eyes snapped wide open. "I've... never needed to, before?"

_Is that why I've been on edge lately?_

Anari released her staff, leaving it to float by her side, and buried her face in both hands. She let out a loud exhalation.

_Is she okay?_

"How?" The word was forced out through visibly gritted teeth. "How... have you not needed to feed, mistress?"

Avro could only shrug helplessly. "I have no idea. Before this… whole world change thing, it was never necessary."

_No, vampires never needed to drain blood from our victims in YGGDRASIL, though some skills did deal bleed and life steal effects. Was that enough?_

The dark elf's hands dropped, and she looked up through messy golden bangs. "Mistress… we need to find you a suitable target." She shook her head, her hair flaring outwards. "I would volunteer, but… I suspect that you require much more than I can provide."

Anari smoothly rose to her feet, reaching out and reclaiming her horned staff. "I shall begin searching. Mistress, I recommend that you dismiss your pets from the manor." Her brilliant emerald eyes met the vampire's red gaze. "_Before _you end up feasting on them."

"Before I…" Avro stopped, her expression hardening. "I am sure I have more self control than that." Her frown deepened.

Anari's full lips formed into a smirk, and she placed a hand on her hip. "Mistress, you haven't even noticed how you're beginning to act around your pets. Your pupils dilate, and you almost start drooling. And, just now, you're starting to do the same to me."

_Is she right? I didn't even notice. Can I really trust myself, in that case?_

Leaping to her feet, Avro threw her arms up into the air. "Well. Fuck!" She growled. Bringing her arms back down, she began gently kneading her forehead with the fingers of one hand.

_I don't even know what to do. Let alone try to control something I've never had to before!_

"Damn it," she whispered, before continuing in a louder voice. "Okay. Anari; can I trust you or Leyra to handle organising Foresight and paying them to report back to us? If what you've said is true… I shouldn't be around them." The vampire pouted.

_This is stupid. I shouldn't be afraid of myself._

Anari crossed one arm across her armoured chest, and leaned forward into a graceful bow. "Mistress, your faith in us will not be misplaced. I shall give Leyra your instructions." The elf rose, and turned towards the door. "I must begin my search. I will inform of you anything I find."

"Sure. Go, then. Make sure that Foresight know that betraying our trust would be very… unwise of them." Avro gave a half-hearted wave at the door. Anari nodded, and the door swung closed behind her, leaving the vampire alone to her thoughts.

_What if I start seeing my NPCs as food…?_

She stiffened.

_I hope it doesn't come to that.  
_

* * *

**North of the Katze Plains, the next morning**

The glowing red vortex of the [Gate] spell snapped shut, dissipating with an angry hiss, leaving naught but the whisper of the dust-laden wind and the four members of Foresight in its wake.

"Well… that was two of the strangest days I've ever had." Hekkeran frowned, holding his hand above his head to block out the glare of the bright sun. "Never thought I'd be paid for talkin' to a vampire before." He tapped a small pouch hanging off his belt, producing a tinkling sound. Similar pouches adorned the belts of the other members of the group.

Imina reached over, and flicked the tall blond on the back of the head. "Couldn't help yourself, could you? Were the two of you trying to set a new record on how close you could come to death?" The half-elf exasperatedly shook her head, giving Hekkeran and Roberdyck half-hearted glares. "Seriously, you both know we're not anywhere near the point of taking on a vampire, especially one as strong as she seems to be."

"I know. I already apologized, both to her and you guys. You know what I am like with the undead. Serving one is… wrong, in all sorts of ways." Roberdyck grumbled, reaching up and scratching the back of his head.

Imina let out a huff. "Just… think next time, okay? Next time it happens could go much worse for us," she shook her head. "Seriously, though, did the vampire really offer us a job to report information back to her?"

"Yep," Hekkeran replied. "I'm not sure what's stopping us from simply ignoring it and moving on, though." The blond gave a shrug of his shoulders, jostling the sack hanging down his back.

Imina screwed up her face in distaste. "Do you _really _think that she wouldn't know about us deceiving her as soon as we did it? Are we thinking about the same vampire? Y'know, the one who has magic casters under her command that caused Arche to straight-up pass out upon using her talent on them? The ones that _also _stressed that betrayal would not be looked kindly upon?"

Hekkeran raised a finger, opened his mouth and paused.

"You… make a valid point. Hmm. We'll just have to play it by ear, I guess." His arm fell, to hang by his side. "Though… did anyone else get the feeling that she was looking at us like we were food towards the end of our stay there?" He gave a brief shudder.

"Maybe she needed to feed? I'm just glad it's not us on the menu." Imina shrugged, glancing up at the blue sky.

"Imina!" Roberdyck burst out. "You can't mean that!"

The half-elf raised her hands, palms up. "Hey! I_ like _living. Being paid is a pretty good bonus. Maybe we can take care of some stuff now, like removing Arche's sisters from her parents." She paused, then turned from the big cleric, ignoring his protesting to face the young magic caster.

"Hey Arche? You've been pretty quiet, ever since you tried using your talent on the scary vampire lady and her servants. Everything okay?" Imina asked

The blonde magic caster glanced up at her friends. Her eyes were sunken, and dark bags sagged underneath her eyes.

"I could not sleep. Not... after that. She said that she had 'claimed' me. I do not know what that means… and I am not sure I want to know." She hesitated, swallowing thickly, then stumbled onwards. "Teyr Avro… should be able to cast third tier magic. She… she does not seem to have much of a reserve, but seems to be powerful enough." Arche said, then shuddered, shaking her head wildy. "The elves? Leyra alone is stronger than my old mentor, Fluder Paradyne. But... Anari, the blonde?" Her voice slowly became horrified. "You really… really do not want to know."

She returned her gaze to the dry, dusty ground. Her next words came out in a hushed whisper.

"If she is angered… the world will tremble."

There was a short silence, then Hekkeran whistled, low and long.

"Shit. That bad, huh?" He frowned, and rested his hands atop the paired hilts of his swords. "Alright then, let's not be stupid around them. I guess if they say jump, don't even ask how high, just bloody jump."

There was a rustle of armour, as Roberdyck shifted his stance. "That's just brilliant then." He grunted. "Whatever. Let's head back to Arwintar to offload these hands before we die from the stench. And see what these damn coins are really worth." The cleric reached down and touched the small pouch hanging at his belt. He began walking towards the north, every step measured and even. After a short pause, the others began following him.

"Arche seems to think they're worth a fair bit!" Imina exclaimed happily, wrapping a slender arm around the much shorter blonde. The magic caster barely reacted, simply watching her feet, and plodding onwards.

"If they're worth as much as she thinks they are, then we're looking at a payday of almost one hundred and twenty gold pieces each, including the payment for the undead clearing!" Hekkeran grinned.

"Let's not get too excited just yet," Roberdyck called out. "But in saying that… I could do a lot of good with that sort of coin." The big man's mouth slowly curved into a soft smile.

"There's just one thing I'm not clear on… How are we actually supposed to inform the vampire of whatever we discover?" Imina questioned, her brows raised.

Hekkeran and Roberdyck glanced at each-other, and gave identical shrugs. As one, they all turned to look at Arche. The exhausted magic caster took several moments to realize, eyes shooting up towards her friends in the sudden silence.

"Huh...?" She murmured, blinking.

"Arche? Are you okay?" Imina asked worriedly.

The blonde covered her mouth, yawning. "I am just… exhausted."

Roberdyck reached over, and laid a hand on the magic caster's thin shoulder.

"We asked you how we were supposed to communicate with the…" The cleric trailed off, face curling in distaste. "The vampire, whenever we had information to report."

"Oh. Oh! I am supposed to learn [Message]... but for now, they will contact us first." Arche drowsily replied. "Every... two days at nightfall." She finished with a yawn, falling silent and stumbling onwards.

Hekkeran looked up towards the sky and frowned. "Well, alright then. Let's stop over in Cothinar, and get some rest and supplies before we make the trek to Arwintar. We have to pass through there anyway."

Arche gave a single, grateful nod, and the team descended into a comfortable silence. Their steady pace soon took them to the northern edge of the Katze Plains, towards civilization.

* * *

**Tempest Manor, evening of the day after**

Avro lounged across the cushions of one of her couches, her arms folded over her breastplate. Her legs were splayed carelessly over the soft arm of the settee, and she stared up at the bare ceiling of her manor's central hall with an intense frown. Her tongue shot out, licking dry lips.

Starting with the previous night, she had begun to feel an odd pounding in the back of her head. Gradually, it got worse, and then worse, with each proceeding hour. A desire, taking more and more of her self-control to control. Now, a day later, it was almost unbearable.

_Being a vampire in this world sucks. I can barely think through this… this damn impulse!_

She let out a frustrated groan, and pressed her hands against her temples.

It had been more than twenty four hours since she'd dismissed the workers from her domain, with Anari transporting them to the same location she had found them in, several days prior.

The vampire had spent much of the intervening time wandering listlessly around her manor, trying to avoid her NPCs as much as she could. The constant _need_, piercing through her thoughts like a heated spear. Even the simple sight of the dark elves was starting to provoke the most _tantalizing_ of thoughts, that took almost all she had to squash.

She shook her head violently, but it did little to dispel the thirst. She let her arms fall limp.

_Fuck… I need to get out of here._

She let out a soft hiss, glaring at the ceiling with narrowed eyes.

"_Mistress." _Anari's soft voice suddenly resounded throughout her mind.

Avro abruptly jerked upright into a sitting position, placing her feet on the floor. She reached up and touched her temple.

"_Anari?" _She replied, shortly_. "What is it?"_

"_I have located a suitable hunting ground for you." _The dark elf promptly responded.

Avro's back straightened, and she let out a hiss at the thought. _"Take me there. Now." _She replied rapidly, rising from her seat.

There was a slight delay before Anari replied back. _"Mistress? Is everything okay?"_ The elf's mental voice rose in pitch, worried.

The vampire let out a short, hiccuping laugh. _"Anari… I don't have time. Get me out of here... before I fucking _eat _one of you."_

"_I... understand, mistress. I am on my way." _Anari announced, ending the Message.

Shifting her hand around and massaging her forehead, Avro groaned. Within minutes, she heard the calm, measured footsteps and soft chiming of armour that signalled Anari's approach. Unbidden, her head snapped towards the sound, and she felt that distinct _need_ in the back of her head suddenly roar to the forefront of her mind.

_No! I will not!_

She forced her eyes shut. The door swung open, with the sound of Anari's breathing and the faint noise of her metal armour filling the near silence.

Avro's eyes shot open, focusing on the swiftly paling face of her dark elf, and the graceful line of her throat. She could see the throbbing of her pulse. Her mouth opened, and she felt her eyes dilating. She could barely think over the screaming impulse to feed.

_No! She. __**Is**__. _**Mine!**

Anari's arm snapped upwards, her fingers spreading. "[Gate]!" She cried, summoning forth one of the angrily glowing portals in front of her, and obscuring herself from Avro's sight.

Shaking her head wildly, the vampire's mouth slammed shut with a click. Tiny, wispy black tendrils were beginning to trail from the edges of her body.

_I need to go! Before..._

The vampire threw herself forward, through the Gate, and found herself elsewhere.

* * *

**In the distance...**

Jeppi leaned to one side, effortlessly avoiding the downward swing of his smaller opponent's flanged mace. He stepped into the guard of his opponent before they could recover, driving his spiked knee guard deep into the man's mail-covered gut.

With a choked gasp, the fighter fell back, clutching at his stomach with a gloved hand, and swinging his weapon defensively with the other.

Jeppi stepped back and grinned. He glanced across the sand-filled arena towards a viewing box filled with a handful of watching spectators. One of them, a thin, severe looking man in ostentatious clothing, raised a neat eyebrow and gave Jeppi a single nod.

The big gladiator turned back to face his opponent, who had ceased waving their mace, and was breathing raggedly. The torn edges of rusty chain mail surrounding their wound were coated with dark blood. The young man stood ready, mace raised but wavering in an uncertain grip. His shield lay discarded in the sand.

His feet shifted in the torchlit sand, and with a grunt, Jeppi lunged forward. He slapped the swinging mace away with a deft bash of his buckler to the haft, bringing his axe up and chopping savagely at the other fighter's throat. The shorter man barely had time for his eyes to widen, before with a strangled yelp, he collapsed with the axe blade plunged deep into his neck.

Jeppi ripped his weapon clear of the body with a roar, spilling rich blood across the sands. A smattering of polite applause rippled from the spectators. The tall gladiator raised his muscular arms to the ceiling of the arena and cheered. He dropped his arms, and made his way out of the arena with long strides, muscles rippling with every movement.

He passed a gladiator armed with a halberd, heading in the opposite direction, and gave the woman a single nod of his head. In short order, he found himself in a room with vertical bars forming walls, overlooking the sand-filled arena. Inside were several other enslaved fighters. The room reeked of stale sweat and blood. His equipment had been taken off of him, and stored in an armoury. Guards stood outside the cell-like barracks, armed with clubs. Jeppi leaned against the wall, watching the female fighter fighting a large lizardman.

"Ah! Jeppi!" A hardy-looking older man with short, salt and pepper hair approaching the bull-necked gladiator called out. "Good fight. That brings us back to parity against Baron Torolan's fighters."

The big man twisted his head from side to side, loud cracks resonating out from his thick neck. "Yep," he rumbled, sounding like rocks grinding against each other. "Gotta keep it up. Sucks about the boy. He wasn't ready for this." His eyes shot towards another corpse lying in the arena, with a hand-and-a-half sword in the sand nearby.

The older man's scarred face scrunched up in muted anger. He shook his head, then spat to the side. "Yeah. 'Tis a pity. Nykal had promise."

Jeppi grunted. Several of the gladiators let out whoops as the woman dealt a solid blow to the lizardman with her halberd, sinking the bladed edge deep into the creature's shoulder. Before she could yank the polearm clear of the lizard's flesh, it reacted by violently rearing back, pulling the haft of the weapon out of the fighter's grip.

The large creature grabbed the long handle of the halberd, and wrenched it free with a roar, spilling crimson across its scales. It flung the weapon away, the halberd spinning end over end, before impacting the sand and skittering away. The lizardman turned slit, hungry eyes on the paling woman, and with another roar, launched itself bodily at her.

"Stupid. Damn, she was fun." Jeppi grunted, shaking his head. There was a brief cheer as the woman managed to dive to the side, and avoid the lizardman's tackle. She ripped out a short, jagged knife, and ducking under a swing of the lizardman's bulky arm, drove it the entire length of the blade into the thinly armoured belly of the creature.

The lizardman let out a screech, and its uninjured arm began glowing with a red light. Before she could get out of the way, it smashed into her side, sending her tumbling through the air. She landed on the sand with a horrid cracking sound, tumbling to a halt. She didn't move. The cheers from the observers in the barred room shifted to saddened murmuring.

"Shit. Who's next?" Jeppi snorted, crossing his thick arms.

The older man laced his fingers in front of his chest, pushing outwards. A resounding series of cracks and clicks issued forth, and he groaned.

"Oooh, that's better," he breathed, smiling toothily. "Probably me. Haven't been out yet."

Jeppi's lips curved into a lopsided smile, the scar tissue on one cheek preventing it from forming fully.

"Thought you woulda been first, to be honest." The bulky gladiator rumbled, tilting his head to the side.

The older man shrugged, but before he could respond, one of the guards rattled his truncheon on the bars.

"One! Two! Get your arses out here!" The guard yelled, rattling the bars again.

"That's us. Kick ass, old man," Jeppi grinned, holding out a fist. Thyr rolled his eyes, and bumped the bulkier gladiator's fist with his own. They turned as one, and moved towards the guard.

"Two, you're up next! One, your presence is demanded!" The guard barked out, as soon as they got close. "Follow the messenger, big guy." He indicated an unfamiliar, well dressed young man who looked completely out of place in the gladiator pens.

The herald looked up at Jeppi, and sniffed haughtily. "Do try to keep up, slave!" He snapped, turning on his heel and leaving. Jeppi's expression blanked, and he quickly caught up to the young man with his long, ground-eating strides. He remained a consistent half a pace behind the messenger.

Eventually, the pair reached a solid door leading towards the arena's sole viewing stand. The herald came to a halt, turning and glaring at the towering, bulky gladiator.

"His grace, Lord Kurkev has demanded your presence, filth." He sneered. "You will speak only when spoken to, and with the _utmost_ respect!"

"I know how this works." Jeppi muttered, rolling his eyes.

The herald's eyes flashed, and he brandished a manicured finger up towards the fighter's scarred face. "I did not give you permission to speak!" He shrieked shrilly.

Jeppi crossed his arms with a grunt. His biceps alone were as big as the herald's head. The young man's face rapidly paled. "Kid, you're new. Here's some advice." He rumbled, leaning down towards the formerly blustering young man. "I... am one of his grace's top gladiators. You... are a minor official." He reached out with a meaty hand, clapping it over the younger man's thin shoulder. "You are easier to replace than I am, and _his grace doesn't abide idiots._" He finished with a low growl.

The herald frantically nodded his head, and Jeppi released him, stepping back. Arms hanging low, head angled towards the ground and eyes downcast, the gladiator was suddenly the image of the meek and subservient.

Taking several deep breaths to calm his racing heart, the official regained his composure and straightened his back. Turning without a word, he forced open the door to the viewing stand and passed through. He never noticed that Jeppi's hands were clenched into fists with white knuckles.

* * *

**Viewing Stands**

Count Kurkev was a thin man, almost cadaverous, with gaunt skin and a bald head. He was dressed in thick, finely made ostentatious golden robes. His neat features were twisted with distaste, as he watched the current duel between two mail-clad gladiators. One of them, fighting from the backfoot, was an older man with black hair with white beginning to creep through. His adversary, a tall, muscular woman with a massive greatsword clutched in her hands. What she obviously lacked for in skill, she was making up for with powerful swings of her weapon, keeping her veteran foe and his scimitar at bay.

The duel had been stalemated like this for almost a minute now. The woman would swing her greatsword, and the man would either deftly avoid it, redirect it elsewhere with an adroit parry of his blade or deflect the large blade with the curve of his round shield. It had become a battle of attrition.

The Count turned his gaze away from the ongoing battle, and turned his narrowed eyes on to his counterpart over to the far side of the spectator's box. Whereas the Count was thin, Baron Torolan was a giant of a man, boisterous in his cheering. He wore gilded ceremonial armour plating, and his closely shaven brown hair glistened in the torchlight.

Kurkev rolled his eyes, turning back to the fight in time to see the woman's greatsword deflected to the ground by the gladiator the Count claimed ownership of. The older fighter immediately stepped into her guard, and only her quick reaction in leaping back saved her from more than a small slash wound to her thigh.

His view of the fight was further disrupted by the arrival of a young man in heraldic garb , leading another of his slave fighters; an absolute giant of a man. The Count smiled thinly.

"Excellent," he stated. "Pursuivant, you may leave."

The youth paused and his mouth opened, but a glance at the Count's glinting eyes, and he stopped with a hasty swallow. Dipping into a deep bow, he made a quick retreat out of Kurkev's sight.

Kurkev's eyes followed the departing messenger for a moment, then flicked towards the gladiator.

"Tell me, One, what do you think of the Baron's fighters?" The Count asked idly, his attention already turning towards the ongoing fight.

The gladiator considered for a moment. "Master. Man to man, they're stronger, we're more skilled," the big, scarred man said. The currently ongoing fight had been the eighth of the night. The lizardman winning the previous fight had put the lead into Baron Torolan's favour.

Kurkev hummed. "I see. And this current fight? How does Two match up with the woman?"

A quick glance at the fight, and the gladiator shrugged. "Master, they're wearing each other down. Th-... Two is smarter." He paused during a particularly vicious exchange of blows with Two, the older gladiator, managing to wound the woman a second time. "He should have this handled soon, master."

The Count dipped his head minutely. "Indeed. There is one more fight after this, should Two prove victorious." His eyes shot to the gladiator, and his lips thinned. "You will fight Baron Torolan's best fighter in the decider, and you _will_ be the victor. Unlike you, he is _not_ a slave. Ready yourself. Now, leave me."

The gladiator bowed deep. "Your will, master." Rising to his full height, he turned ponderously, and left. His heavy footfalls resounded over the clashing fighters below.

Kurkev allowed himself a small smile, then turned back to observing the arena. Far above him in the rafters, a small shape flitted about, chirping.

* * *

**Minutes later, In the Arena**

Jeppi stood in the sand, shifting his stance. He was fully armed once more with his battle axe and spiked greaves covering his calves and knees. Iron chainmail covered his form, jingling softly as he stretched. He had exchanged his buckler for a large, metal bracer covering the entirety of his right forearm.

Thyr, or 'Two', as he was known by their owner, had won against the woman in the previous fight. He had received a nasty wound to the side of his torso, but the victory required a deciding round. Thus, Jeppi would be fighting against Baron Torolan's best fighter, a tall man who had won the opening fight of the match.

Jeppi's eyes tracked the fighter as he approached. The man was also armoured in mail, with several scattered plated pieces, and he held a polearm loosely in one hand. His easy, measured gait oozed confidence.

The man came to a halt ten metres from Jeppi, and swung the polearm upright, resting the base on the ground. His off-hand came up and pounded his breastplate in a salute.

"Greetings!" He called. "I am Yomel. With whom do I have the honour of fight..."

"Fuck off," Jeppi grunted, interrupting Yomel.

Yomel's brow furrowed. "I see. I've seen you fight. I won't leave _anything_ to chance. [Ability Boost]!" He called, and his body briefly flashed with light. Jeppi's eyes widened momentarily, then tightened, flickering over his opponent.

He shifted his stance, sliding his right foot forward and raising his bracer before him.

There was a brief moment, where both gladiators sought out weaknesses in each other with their eyes, and then a trumpet blared.

Yomel reached down and snapped his polearm up into a ready stance, with the viciously sharp spear tip pointed towards Jeppi.

"Come, _slave_, show me what you're worth." Yomel taunted, grinning and showing his white teeth. He remained in his position.

Jeppi grit his teeth, and reached towards his belt for one of his daggers. Pulling it free, he began to close the distance. Before he got close enough for Yomel to strike at him with the spear tip, he planted his feet and threw the dagger with all of his prodigious strength at the centre of his foe's mass, forcing Yomel to frantically lean out of the way of the spinning blade. The gladiator followed the dagger inside of the smaller man's guard with a leap, and lashed out with his axe.

"[Fortress]!" Yomel shouted, catching the blade of the axe on the glowing haft of his polearm. Jeppi snarled, and slashed out again, and then again. A series of heavy blows, each intercepted with the quick handwork and the liberal use of Martial Arts on Yomel's part. Slowly, the larger man forced the polearm-wielder back.

Finally, Jeppi managed to break past his opponent's guard and sunk the bearded blade of his axe into the mail covering Yomel's thigh, drawing blood and forcing the man to limp. Ripping his weapon out and spilling red, he again lashed out, keeping his opponent on the defensive.

Yomel caught the axe on the bladed head of his polearm, and with a quick reflexive action, redirected it away, leaving the bulky gladiator wide open. The thinner fighter continued the movement, spinning and smashing the brass basecap on the butt of his weapon into the bulkier gladiator's face with a crunch, sending broken teeth flying through the air.

Jeppi staggered back, out of range of the limping Yomel and his polearm, groaning. The big man spat out a globule of blood, full of small white fragments, and he glared at Yomel, eyes blazing with hatred.

Both gladiators took the time to breathe heavily, trying to recover from the brief, but intense clash. The arena was awash with the sound of cheering from the viewing stands.

"_What_ are you waiting for!? Get in there and _finish_ him!" A loud, boisterous voice called from the viewing booth, cutting above the rest of the viewers. Baron Torolan stood, gripping the railing tightly with both hands. His face was twisted into a deep frown.

Yomel snarled, and began limping forward to close the distance. Jeppi spat out a second globule of blood, and reached down to pull out another dagger. He repeated his previous opening action, throwing the dagger, and trying to force Yomel to either block or evade it so that he could step inside the other man's guard.

This time, however, Yomel simply shifted to the side slightly, and the dagger skittered off of the curved plate covering one side of his chest, burying itself in the sand.

"[Piercing Strike]!" Yomel yelled, lunging forward with his suddenly shining polearm.

Only for Jeppi to step to the side, and lash out with his right arm, gripping the shaft of the polearm before Yomel could yank it back.

"You Martial Arts users are all the same," Jeppi muttered through broken and missing teeth. "Always relying on your _arts _to carry you through your lack of skill." His grip on the haft, steadfast despite Yomel's best struggles to retrieve it.

The big man jerked back on the polearm, wrenching it free from Yomel's hands, and throwing it over his shoulder. He lurched forward and planted one of his massive feet squarely into the centre of the smaller man's torso, booting him backwards and sending him sprawling to the ground, wheezing desperately.

The spectators in the viewing booth let out a brief cheer, halting almost as suddenly as they started.

Yomel's mouth fell open, and his eyes shot wide open, staring behind Jeppi. The bulky gladiator let out a huff, shaking his head lightly.

"Think I'm stupid?" He grunted. "There's nothin…" He halted, head cocked. There was a hissing sound, coming from behind him. It sounded… angry.

His head snapped around, looking over his shoulder. There, behind him, a gaping black void with hints of red swirling within it. It slowly shrunk, before vanishing with a pop. As his eyes adjusted in the torchlight, he could make out a slim, feminine form. Her garb was ashen, and her youthful face tilted to one side. Her red eyes flickered over the polearm clutched in between the forefinger and thumb of one hand.

"One!" Came a shout from the viewing booth, originating from Count Kurkev. "Kill it! _Quickly_!"

Jeppi rolled his shoulders, turning around fully and approaching the short young woman. She didn't react, her red eyes still gazing at the bladed head of the polearm. Her silhouette was darkening, with inky tendrils trailing off of her form, slowly encroaching over her entire body.

The gladiator reared back with his axe, and with all his might, swung down in a vicious chop at the much smaller woman's head.

There was a brief, almost imperceptible moment in time where those red eyes shot briefly towards the rapidly descending axe blade, then one neat eyebrow raised in an arch. His iron battle axe, constant and reliable companion during the many years of his slavery, impacted the pale skin of the woman's forehead… and _shattered_ with a loud cracking sound, flinging small chunks of metal through the air.

Jeppi could only stare helplessly at the broken haft, clutched in his aching fist. There was a brief mewling cry from behind him, and the sound of scrabbling, as Yomel began crawling away.

"And what… were you hoping to accomplish _with that_?" The voice began softly, slowly turning into a horrible, rasping hiss. The woman's attractive face began to change, her red eyes sinking and mouth expanding, showing horrifically long, needle-like teeth and a long, writhing tongue. The black, amorphous shadows had entirely covered her body, forming a shapeless mass that was quickly expanding.

The creature's face vanished into the darkness, until all that was left were glowing red eyes and that grim, needle fanged maw.

He was stuck. Frozen in place by primordial terror. He couldn't even force himself to move. Sweat dripped down his pale face in rivers. Half-seen images tore at his peripheral vision, and maddening, indescribable whispering forced its way through his mind.

Jeppi breathed in a deep, ragged breath, and the illusions and whispering quietened. Finally, the big gladiator's legs began working once more, and he jerked himself bodily backwards, only to slam to an immediate halt. A long black tendril had shot from the squirming, teethed mass of darkened shadow, and wrapped itself around his thickly muscled chest.

"Oh no, my sweet, there is no escape for you," the _thing _whispered sibilantly, suddenly close enough to caress Jeppi's ashen face. "You will _serve_ me... you will _all_ serve me!" It's voice screeched, echoing discordantly from within the shadows.

It's thick tongue shot out towards his face, roughly caressing the bloody wound and tearing at his rough skin. He struggled, muscles bulging, but the shadowy mass failed to so much as budge. Strength borne through many years of effort, useless in the face of the horror attaching itself to him.

"Tell me…" the dark fiend rasped in a dreadful whisper. "Are you strong?"

Tears leaked out from the big man's eyes, trailing down his scarred cheeks. His muscles trembled spasmodically. A tendril curled around his head, embracing Jeppi and caressing his bloodied cheek. He could only gibber helplessly in terror. _He couldn't escape!_

"_You won't be." _Then in an instant, those horrible, needle teeth dug into his neck, and he felt a flash of piercing pain and a brief moment of suction -

Then nothing.


End file.
